Elrond's Mistake
by SkyFire2
Summary: Sequel to "What Happened to Glorfindel." Arwen's back, and Elrond's not happy. *g* Please R/R.


Elrond's Mistake  
by SkyFire  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though if you're giving them away, I'll take an order of chocolate-covered   
Elf-lord. *g*  
  
This is a sequel to "What Happened to Glorfindel." Read that first.  
  
Leave a review! Please? Pretty please? My plotbunnies will love you forever. Me, too! *g*  
  
*****  
Elrond's Mistake  
by SkyFire  
  
"...and then she bashed me over the head. The next thing I know, I am waking up here, Lord   
Elrond," Glorfindel whispered softly from where he lay abed in Rivendell's infirmary. Any noise   
louder than a whisper set a troupe of hyperactive dwarves to hammering inside his head, as did   
any motion of his head at all, and bright light.  
  
Elrond stared down at the injured Elf-lord. "Arwen did this? My Arwen?" he demanded. He   
belatedly lowered his voice at the other's wince of pain. "But why?"  
  
"Lord Elrond, the Dunadan you had commanded me search for is her beloved, she says. She bid me   
return to your hall while she went in my place. I told her that I could not, but..." the   
Elf-lord shrugged, wincing. "Lady Arwen was very determined."  
  
"That is no excuse for assaulting an Elf-lord of Rivendell, or any other Elf, for that matter."   
Elrond sighed. "And now you lie here in the infirmary with a concussion and much good goes   
undone because of it. I assure you, she will be punished appropriately."  
  
Glorfindel nodded, winced at the pain as those dwarves gleefully started hammering again, then   
watched passively as Elrond left.  
  
He smiled inwardly as the three nurses, all sympathetic Elf-maids with no other patients to tend,   
came to take care of him. Perhaps, he mused, being injured wasn't so bad, after all.  
  
  
  
"How could you do this?" Elrond demanded harshly.  
  
Arwen had returned with Glorfindel's horse and the group he had been asked to find. She had,   
immediately upon her return, been summoned to her father's chambers.  
  
"How could you?" he demanded again.  
  
"How?" Arwen blinked. She hadn't expected that particular question. "Well, Father, first I took   
up the shovel and, since his back was turned, I just swung it at-"  
  
"Arwen!"  
  
"Yes, Father?"  
  
"You assaulted the Elf-lord Glorfindel. He is now abed in the infirmary with a concussion given   
by your hand-"  
  
"Technically, it was the shovel-"  
  
"By your hand," he repeated. "Now, *why* did you do this thing?"  
  
"Father," she said slowly, as if to a child who could not see the obvious. "Aragorn is *my*   
Dunadan. He is *my* beloved. It is my right to rescue him should he need it. Lord Glorfindel   
has lived long enough to know that it is unwise to come between a Lady and her beloved,   
especially when that beloved is in danger. And Elf-lord or not, Glorfindel shall *not* take my   
beloved Dunadan from me."  
  
"Take him from-" Elrond exclaimed. He frowned. "Arwen, Glorfindel intended nothing of the   
sort."  
  
"Of course he did, Father," Arwen said dismissingly. She smiled softly, eyes far away, seeing   
only memories. "No one can resist my Aragorn's charms."  
  
"Oh, really? I think, then, that it is about time that I had a long talk with Aragorn." He   
frowned in displeasure. He turned and began to walk away, intending to have that discussion as   
soon as possible, and find out exactly *what* charms Arwen was referring to. "I'll deal with his   
'charms'..." he muttered.  
  
It was only later when he thought it over that he realized his mistake; he had mentioned Aragorn   
by name, and then turned his back.  
  
  
  
His sons Elladan and Elrohir found him an hour later, lying unconscious on the floor of his   
recieving chamber in a small puddle of water, wilting flowers and shards of broken pottery lying   
scattered about him.  
  
The two managed to rouse their father to wakefulness, then helped him sit up on the floor.  
  
"Father, what happened?" Elladan asked.  
  
"Yes, Father, what happened? Were you attacked?" Elrohir asked in concern.  
  
Elrond winced as he dabbed at a small cut on his head, saw blood stain his fingers. Thunder   
sparked in his eyes as he growled a single word. "Arwen!"  
  
His sons helped Elrond tend to his small wound. His head was still aching, though, as the trio   
went down to meet with the secret council he had summoned.  
  
When next he caught up with Arwen...!  
  
  
END  
  
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